


Lucidity

by Existensteel



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, monster fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-04-14 12:01:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14135631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Existensteel/pseuds/Existensteel
Summary: Like his reconstructions, his dreams augment. A suitor comes from the black.





	Lucidity

Will woke up with the fever already on him.

The acerbic reek of piss soured the room where one of his eclectic pack had urinated, afraid or territorial. The dog beds were empty, but he heard Winston prancing in the hallway. Buster issued a sharp bark from close behind.

_It’s okay, buddy. He’s a friend. He won’t hurt Daddy._

Friend. Right. His _very_ good friend. He hated the sick thrill that shot up his spine, a bolt of pleasure. Of _too much._

He braced himself on his elbows and scanned the room. Then he saw it, a swath of space slightly darker than the surrounding shadows. Just there in the corner, and at its center, eyes like almond pearls. Anticipation transposed itself over bare shelves and musty sheets, thinned the air and pulled twine taut in his chest. He could try to stand, try to run, but he was really feeling it now.

Hamstrung by his own arousal. More accurately, the anticipation of arousal.

He wanted it.

Will shut his eyes. He drifted. He was in a dark wood.

The miasma that garbed his bedroom reigned here. He sucked in a lungful like ambrosia, and it made his body sing. Contagious. The hardpan beneath his feet softened like the plowed soil of crop furrows after the rain, loamy and red. Too quickly it crept between his toes, thick as batter, granular and massaging at his soles.

The cool mud. The funk of moldering leaves and dense conifer. The familiar needling of eyes.

He spotted the milky gaze watching him from the shade of a tree. It crouched like an animal. Familiar cuspids flashed as the beast snarled and scented the air. A low sound, an almost imperceptible rumble that shook Will’s already friable resolve.

“I want to see you.” _God,_ he wanted to.

No answer. Only the trembling of the branches, the lapse of wind notwithstanding.

Will palmed the crotch of his jeans and sighed. The Stygian beast lurched forward and showed its teeth, rattling out a hollow sound of encouragement. An eldritch, articulated bluster that Will, somehow, understood to be, _That’s it, take what you want. Show me._

It liked to watch, to play voyeur as Will improved his erection and popped his fly. Unzipped. He knew what to do, what it liked. This wasn’t the first time he’d put on a show.

This dreamscape, this borderland on the fringes of his conscious, was an epicurean pocket of space and time without consequence. He could enjoy himself here and not dilute his pleasure with shame. Shame could wait until morning.

Will’s thumb slipped, slick, over the head of his cock when he reached into his boxers, and he clenched his teeth. Another cough from the beast, _Already so tender, welling_ _and damp_ _. Get ready for me._

“C-can you smell it?” Will hummed and pushed into the tight glove of his hand. Pre-come dribbled over his fingers as his cock pulsed. “It’s bad tonight. I’m so-- _fuck_. I need you. Need you to...”

_Then kneel. Receive me._

Will hurriedly shoved his pants and underwear down, removing his shoes and socks before he could kick them off proper. Once the clothes were shed, he fell to one knee, then two, and crouched until he felt cool earth against his shoulders and cheek. Mud squelched as he tried to look behind him and spread his knees. The cool air between his bare thighs made him tremble. The beast\--only the suggestion of a man, a shadow behind the veil with a head beset by a forest of tines\--crept from the treeline, inky all but for its pale eyes and the fleshy tip of a turgid phallus that peeked out from the sheath between its legs. The dark, matte foreskin contrasted with the virile pink of the shaft and head lacquered with viscous slime.

So velvety and slick, all Will had to do was relax and  want it.

He clenched and involuntarily shook with anticipation. Unyielding fingers bit into his hip, his thigh, drew red lines down his back. Will lifted his ass, bent his back, and breathed.

The blunt tip of the beast’s substantial sex nudged between his cheeks and at the very center of him. Then it slowly but steadily slid inside, unrelenting, as he was mounted. The additional pressure made his shoulders and neck ache. But it was so good, so hot with blood, and _deep_. The dull burn  edged into a pleasurable throb as the beast pulled out, dragging the fat head of its cock over his prostate, then, driving down this time, bottomed out with a deliberate blow to that tender spot inside him.

Will bristled and cried out. There was a loud clap of flesh. A telltale gust of humid breath moistened his nape just before teeth pierced his shoulder. It liked to hold him in its jaws when it got down to business and started fucking him in earnest. Will didn’t mind. He wanted it to hurt, wanted it hard. Wanted his mind to roll over and play dead a little while.

If only he could last longer. If only it wasn’t so goddamn good. He’d always loved anal and prostate stimulation, but it wasn’t the easiest topic to broach. He wondered if the animal rutting behind him was a manifestation of that yearning, or something else...

Will pushed himself up on shaking arms and sat back on the cock pistoning in and out of him. The pace was so aggressive it punched the breath out of him.

“F-f-fu-fuck. Please--don’t pull ou-out.” Will’s imaginary fuck-buddy had yet to orgasm while mounted. But if this was Will’s (albeit depraved) wonderland, he was going to thoroughly enjoy it. And what he wanted was to take it all inside, feel it hot and sluicing down his thighs when his lover finally slipped free. “I want it. All of it.” Will canted his hips to emphasize. “Come inside me.”

Apparently  all he had to do was ask. The horned man bent farther over him, grunted, and started riding him  with abandon . Will, undignified in the mud, braced his weight on his shoulders and reached between his splayed legs to fist his neglected cock.

God, he was  _almost_ there. “A-a-almost--” he warned as his balls drew up tight.

The beast’s pace stuttered. Then it shoved every last inch in and came hard in his ass, every hot pulse squeezed out between tight, jerky thrusts. Will pivoted his hips receptively and locked up as his own orgasm peaked. He shot his load onto the ground.

He was always amazed how _much_ he could come like this, so much more than with masturbation. 

After several minutes, Will felt the spent cock slip free. The resulting semen that dribbled down his quivering thighs was thick and warm. Just for him. He moaned and arched luxuriously before falling over onto his side. Will was grateful that he could have this without waking up sore or covered in dried spunk. Just his own sweat and night terrors to worry about. Nothing to be ashamed of. 

Only when Will did wake up the following morning, he _was_ sore. He sat up and cringed. The bedroom reeked of sex. When he threw the duvet back, he found his feet muddy and his thighs crusted. Almost as if-- 

Oh, _shit._

Then, for reasons unknown to him, the thing he did next was call Hannibal.

  



End file.
